Cephalalgia
by Awesome-Sauce-Eater
Summary: Wilson has a migraine. House helps out. No slash intended, just strong friendship, but you can read it as slash if you like. Contains one piece of mild language. May be a little OOC so; don't like? Don't read.


**Disclaimer:** **Do you really think I would be sat here writing Fanfiction if I owned it? No. I would raking in the money I made from the show while deciding where to put the new swimming pool in my mansion. Unfortunately, there is no swimming pool, or mansion...**

**This story will probably be quite OOC. Don't like? Simple... don't read it! **

**Cephalalgia**** (It's the medical term for a headache apparently)**

Dr James Wilson had a headache. A migraine to be more precise. He was curled up on the couch in his office, the blinds drawn tightly shut and the lights switched off, his head resting on a cushion with another one on top to block out any excess noise and light. He had the trash can nearby on the floor as he was starting to feel nauseous.

He was starting to drift off to sleep when his office door banged open. Wilson winced as the sound echoed through his skull, making it pound even more. There was silence, and then the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly. Wilson winced again, and then slowly lifted his head from the position it had been in. He squinted at the visitor, trying to keep his eyes as closed as possible.

"Wilson! You're alive!" an overly cheerful House greeted him, much too loudly. Wilson knew he was doing it on purpose.

"Barely. Go away House." Wilson whispered weakly.

He had closed his eyes again and was about to put his head back underneath the cushion when House cleared his throat loudly again.

"What do you want House?" Wilson whispered, even quieter this time.

"Just checking you're alive and well Wilson!" House shouted, poking him in the ribs with his cane.

Translation, House was bored. When Wilson made no reaction to the sharp poke House had just given him, other than burying his head under the cushion again, House got concerned. Surely Wilson would have said something? 'Ow', or 'that hurt', or 'piss off House'. Even when Wilson had one of his migraines, he usually reacted to House's purposely annoying behaviour. Even if it was just whispered moans for him to go away and feeble hand gestures.

Walking as quietly as he could, House limped to the door as closed it with a quiet click, blocking out the noise and light from the corridor outside. Then he limped back to where his best friend lay, perfectly still, on the couch, head buried beneath cushions.

"And with my amazing diagnostics skills I can see that you're not" House whispered softly, sitting down gently next to Wilson.

There was a muffled "Not what?" from Wilson before House answered him.

"Not alive and well" continued House. Once again there was no reaction from Wilson other than what sounded like a muffled sniff.

Little did House know that Wilson's migraine was the worst he'd had in years. House's earlier shouting and banging, that happened every time Wilson had a migraine, didn't usually effect him as much as it had this time. Yes, it usually hurt a lot, but never like it had this time. This time, the pain from it had been excruciating and had caused tears to well up in Wilson's eyes. Thus, he had buried his head under the cushion again and silently sobbed while praying for House to go away.

Unfortunately for Wilson, House had not gone away, and had just picked up on the muffled sniff he heard.

"Wilson?" House breathed, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Wilson, are you okay?"

Nothing.

House shook Wilson, ever so gently, taking the cushion from over his head as he did so. Wilson groaned and slowly turned over to face House. House was shocked to Wilson's red eyes and tear stained face.

"Wilson?" House gasped.

"You... hurt me." Wilson whispered. "When you were shouting and banging, it hurt so much, and...it made me cry" Wilson explained in the quietest voice possible.

"But, it's never hurt you that much before, I was only messing around..." House said guiltily.

"This, is the worst one, I've had in years" Wilson groaned.

"I'm sorry" House said.

He actually felt bad about his banging and shouting earlier. He actually felt sorry for his friend, lying there in pain. House could only imagine what a migraine was like, having never suffered from them himself. He remembered his mother suffering from them though and he remembered thinking back then how awful it must be for migraine sufferers. No painkillers seemed to work for her and she would just have to lie on her bed in the dark until the pain subsided.

"Wilson? Do you want me to take you home?" House asked quietly. No answer. "Wilson!"

"You're bike is noisy House" Wilson groaned pathetically.

"I'll drive your car stupid. You'd probably faint and fall off my bike or something stupid, let me go get my stuff and then we'll go."

House limped out of Wilson's office and closed the door as quietly as he could, before entering his own office, grabbing his bag and jacket before going back to Wilson's office. Wilson was in the same position House had left him in before he had left. House limped over to Wilson and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on Wilson, time to go home" House whispered. Wilson mumbled something that sounded like 'need to tell Cuddy'.

"Already done it. Now come on."

House helped Wilson to his feet, and then walked slowly next to him, his arm that wasn't holding his cane ready to catch Wilson in case he stumbled. Wilson groaned as House opened the office door and the bright lights from the corridor hit his eyes. House kept a hold on Wilson's arm as he led him to the elevator, Wilson was looking at the floor, trying to stop the bright lights hurting his eyes as much. By the time they got to the elevator Wilson was whimpering and tears were welling up in his eyes again. The elevator was empty, so House took pity on his friend and let Wilson bury his head into his shoulder to block out the light.

People stared at them in the lobby; House limping with his cane while holding onto Wilson's arm, who was groaning and staring at the floor. They made it out into the parking lot, and then eventually got to Wilson's car.

For the whole drive to House's apartment, Wilson had his face buried in his hands, and House could hear him quietly crying. The walk from his office to his car must have hurt him. House felt helpless, there was nothing he could do to ease his friend's pain other than take him home and lay him on the couch.

Soon House was helping Wilson through the door to his apartment and lowering him onto the couch. House then shut the curtains and turned the lights off. He put a bucket on the floor next to the couch, in case Wilson felt sick again, and then sat down on the chair, unsure of what to do.

Then he looked over at Wilson and saw that he tears rolling down his cheeks again. Of course, the car journey, the lights and the noise. That must have hurt him. House got up and grabbed a tissue, before heading over to where Wilson lay.

He sat down, and gently lifted Wilson's head onto his good thigh. He dabbed at his tears with the tissue, and Wilson smiled gratefully. He sat there for a while, with Wilson's head resting on his thigh, before deciding to get up and make himself a sandwich.

He offered one to Wilson, but it seemed that he was feeling nauseous again because at the very mention of the sandwich, Wilson's face paled even more that it already had and he let out a groaned 'no'.

House spent the rest of the evening with Wilson's head resting on his good leg, occasionally helping him to sip some water. When Wilson started to look sleepy House arranged some cushions under his head, then got a spare blanket and laid it over Wilson, before going to bed himself.

Later that night, House woke with a start. Looking over at the clock he saw that it was 3 o'clock. He rubbed his leg, wondering if that was what had woken him, but the pain was no worse than usual. Then he heard a scream that sounded like Wilson.

Swinging his legs out of the bed and grabbing his cane, before pushing himself to his feet, he limped as fast as he could through to the living room where Wilson was sleeping. Wilson was thrashing around on the couch, the blanket tangling around his flushed and sweaty body. Every so often he would scream.

House rushed over to him and shook him awake.

"Wilson! Wilson, wake up!"

Wilson woke up with a start and began to push at House, yelling in obvious fear, tears and sweat pouring down his face.

"Wilson! Wilson it's okay, it's me, it's House!" Wilson stopped struggling and looked up at House. House sat down next to him, and pulled his trembling friend into a hug. Wilson began to cry again, and clung to House when he tried to pull away. House ran his fingers through Wilson's hair, trying desperately to comfort him. When it seemed that Wilson had calmed down, House went to get up and go back to bed, but Wilson clung to him again.

"Don't leave me" Wilson whispered. "I'm scared".

House looked his friend straight in the eye, and saw the terror that was still there. Add that to the tear stained face and House caved.

"Come on then" House said, getting to his feet and pulling Wilson with him. He kept a tight hold on Wilson all the way to the bedroom as he was still shaking, and then got back into bed. He felt the bed sag on the other side as Wilson crawled in and pulled the covers over him.

"Night House"

"Night Wilson"

House sighed. He could already hear Wilson snoring gently beside him and he knew that he wouldn't be disturbed again tonight. Wilson's migraine seemed to have gone, and sleeping with House would stop him having nightmares. House sighed again. It wasn't like they hadn't slept in the same bed before, anyway.

**Authors Notes:**** Okay, so I got a little carried away and it ended up being VERY out of character, but oh well. Just imagine if they were that sweet to each other, sometimes. Aww, who can resist a little House/Wilson fluffiness? No slash was intended in this story by the way, but you can look at it like that if you want to. And the last line, again no slash intended, I just meant other times that maybe, Wilson had had nightmares, or various other reasons! **

**Thanks for reading, maybe, possibly you could spare 30 seconds more and write me a quick review? This is my first proper House story by the way, my other one being the MP3 challenge, but it's not my first Fanfiction, so you can be harsh if you want to. (But not too harsh). **

**Thanks**

**Angipie xxx**


End file.
